Anything Goes
by ladycobert
Summary: A collection of one-shots and drabbles set in my Modern AU for Downton.
1. Birthday in Newport

A/N: (Seven years after _A Little Party_.)

* * *

"No peeking," Martha said, her hands covering Edith's eyes.

"Grandma, there is no way I can see around Grandpa's hands." If that had not been true, Martha felt sure she would have seen Mary's accompanying eye roll.

"Good! Because it would spoil your birthday surprise."

Indian summer had made the Newport park a perfect place to celebrate the twins' birthday. Isidore and Martha stood behind their granddaughters on the grass, watching Harold place the gifts on the grass in front of them. Cora and Robert sat on a nearby bench, three-year-old Sybil bouncing on her father's knee, and baby Theodore sleeping in his mother's arms. The parents beamed at the family group, excited to see how the girls would react.

Edith placed her little hands over her grandmother's. "Grandma, is it time yet?"

Martha paused to make sure Harold had brought out both gifts. Getting a thumbs up from her son, she nodded at Isidore, and they pulled their hands away. "Ta-da!" she said with a flourish.

Letting out a happy squawk, Edith jumped up and down a few times before skipping over to a shiny purple bicycle. "Is this one mine, Grandpa?" Her eyes shone as she twisted her fingers into the metallic streamers blossoming from the end of a handlebar.

"Whichever you like best, little bird," he said, grinning.

"Well, purple is my favorite color. Mary likes blue better." She pointed to the other bike with her forefinger.

Martha turned to Mary. "Is that right, Mary? You like blue better?" She aimed a wink at Cora and Robert, having gleaned this information from them before buying the bicycles.

But Mary stood still, chewing on her bottom lip, her face in a slight grimace as she stared at the gifts.

"Mary? Don't you like your present?" Isidore put his hands on his granddaughter's slight shoulders, giving her a look of concern.

Raising her head to meet his eyes, she shook her head. "It's just that Granny says that riding horses is more appropriate for refined young ladies."

Something between a choking noise and a guffaw issued from Martha's throat. "Well, is Empress Granny here, little Lady Mary?"

She shook her head again. "No, Grandma, but I don't think she'd like it."

"Let's ask your papa then." Martha turned to him. "How about it, Robert? Do we have to choose between riding horses or bicycles? Are we unrefined young ladies if we do not heed your mother's admonition?"

Sybil shook on his lap Robert was laughing so hard. "Oh no, Mary," he managed to sputter out. "You shouldn't listen to Granny about that. Sometimes she sounds like she was born in 1842 or something."

Harold was already helping Edith onto her bicycle, giving her snippets of advice. He'd loved riding his own bicycle as a child.

"Mary, you don't have to ride the bicycle now if you don't want to," Cora said. "You can play with your other presents. But you'll probably want to learn to ride later, once you see how much fun it is."

"Alright, Mama." She didn't sound convinced. Then she went over to the picnic blanket to pick up the new doll Violet had sent for her birthday. She sat down and watched Edith wobbling slightly on the bike, the training wheels making sure she stayed upright. Mary appeared to be mulling over her options.

Cora, shifting Theodore from one arm to the other, whispered to Robert, "Perhaps it's nice for Edith to have something for herself for a change. I know she often feels overshadowed by Mary."

Cuddling an increasingly sleepy Sybil, Robert eyed his eldest daughter sat on the blanket with her doll. "I wouldn't count on Mary staying away from her new bicycle for long, darling. Edith's having too much fun. Look at her!" He laughed brightly as Edith pedaled toward them, a huge grin on her face.

"Well done, Edith!" Cora called. Robert was right; Edith had already clearly fallen in love with the gift, with the feel of riding the bike.

Finally, Mary got up and walked to her bicycle, where she settled her doll in the white plastic basket attached to the front of her bike and grabbed a handlebar. Setting her face into a resolute expression, she put her other hand on her hip. "Grandpa, can you show me how? Edith is hogging Uncle Harold."

Hiding a chuckle behind his hand, Isidore walked to Mary, guiding her onto the bike. It wasn't long before she got the hang of it, and she and Edith raced one another around their little group in the park. Harold, Isidore, and Martha all cheered them on.

Cora slipped her free hand into her husband's and pressed it lovingly, her eyes meeting his. "We're truly fortunate, Robert. To have such a beautiful family."

"We are, sweetheart." He leaned forward to press a soft kiss to her lips, then looked over at their twin daughters riding their bicycles. Smiling, he kept hold of her hand, his other arm wrapped around Sybil. "We are indeed."


	2. Happiness

_Imagine your otp dancing with each other in the kitchen. Too early to care and in rumpled up pajamas._

* * *

Martha smelled the coffee as she wakened in the still dark room. Sitting up on her elbow, she looked over at the clock. Six am. _I'll let Issi sleep in a bit more_ , she thought. After she dropped a soft kiss on her husband's temple, Martha drew on her dressing gown and headed toward the kitchen, her nostrils twitching at the luscious scent.

As she approached the closed kitchen door, the sounds of music, turned low enough not to reach the bedrooms, reached her ears. She thought she heard laughter. Pushing open the door just a crack, she looked into the room.

A wide smile parted Martha's lips.

Surreptitiously, she watched while her daughter and the man who'd flown over the ocean only two days before to declare his love for her – Robert – danced. The pair swayed and pirouetted, Cora in bare feet, Robert in socks, steadying one another as they hopped around the middle island, dodging bar stools and the sneakers Harold had carelessly strewn by the refrigerator. They both wore flannel pajamas, Robert's blue and white striped, Cora's red with little white flowers. At a break before the next song, they paused, grinning and slightly panting. Robert brushed a lock of dark hair away from Cora's eyes and tucked it behind her ear. Their hearts were in their eyes.

Careful not to make any noise, Martha backed out of the doorway, retracing her steps to her bedroom. She wanted to tell Isidore – tell him that she'd never seen Cora so happy in her life.


End file.
